


Something Strong

by exemplarity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emetophobia, Gen, Multi, tagging: the struggle, vaguely hinted at relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exemplarity/pseuds/exemplarity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have or have not. </p><p>  It was a simple rule, one she had long lived by. She supposed her interpretation was different than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Strong

**Author's Note:**

> check the tags, please!
> 
> this post contains some triggering content so be careful dearies UvU

Have or have not. 

It was a simple rule, one she had long lived by. She supposed her interpretation was different than most. 

In the days before everything changed, she had plenty. She never went without. When she ventured outside for the first time she realized, she was alone in that. Around her was poverty, despair. Around her was starvation. Around her were emaciated Carapacians huddling together for warmth, crouching in their own filth. 

She ran back to her home, leaving the door open behind her as she fell to her knees and emptied her stomach, tears streaming as she heaved. She knelt there for what seemed like hours. 

From that day, Roxy Lalonde learned to go without. Down in her cellar, the ground was hard, the air was dry. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. On the shelves there were cans, enough to build a small city. On the shelves were jars of things pickled and jellied, boxes of grains. She went back to the Carapacians with her arms full. She gathered who she could find and sat them in a circle, passing out food and drink. She did not eat, but had the wine as no one else would touch it. 

Personally, she didn't think it was half bad.

And so it went. During the morning she would work in the gardens, planting and growing. At meals she would watch the Carapaces eat, while holding a glass of something strong. The longer she fasted, the more those around her had to eat. When night came, she talked to her friends until she couldn't string together sentences. Before she went to bed, she would sit in front of the mirror and run her hands over the parts of herself she resented. The round face, arms, stomach. They only served as proof that she had more than her share already.

Over time there were changes in her body, hours staring at herself made them very clear to her. Her skin felt looser, as did her clothing. She felt like the space around her became more vast with each passing moment, idly pondered the possibility of her house growing without her notice. On the days that she broke fast, she could pinpoint every bite.

The day before the world ended again, Roxy Lalonde looked in her mailbox and saw that a small pumpkin had been placed inside. She wondered who had put it there, wondered who could be so selfish. Wondered what traitor in their community wanted everyone to starve. She handed it to the first neighbor she came across.

She kissed them on the forehead before she sent them on their way.

 

Have or have not.

It seemed like a simple rule, one she had long lived by. Sometimes she wondered if she had it right.

In the days after everything changed, there was plenty. No one had to go without. When she woke up for the first time, in a house that seemed dimly familiar, she ran into the hall and realized that she wasn't alone. Around her were people she loved. Around her were her best friends, holding her close because they knew that they had won. 

That night, she ran to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her as she fell to her knees and threw up the first course of the meal Jane had cooked, tears streaming as she heaved. She knelt there for what seemed like seconds before the door bust open.

"What the hell-" In a rush there were strong hands lifting her by her shoulders, Dirk looking down at her with a face full of worry. 

From that day Roxy Lalonde decided that maybe her friends didn't need to know about some things. She pushed herself out of Dirk's arms and by the time she walked back into the kitchen, she had smeared a smile across her lips like cheap, waxy lipstick. She sat back down at the table, plucking the serving utensils out of Jake's hands as if they were the strings of her old violin, so that she could pass out the food. It felt familiar in a way that made her throat tighten, made her head spin. She had no idea of the whereabouts of her old neighbors. She hoped that they were not hungry, prayed that they were not cold. 

She kept the wine for herself, as her friends would not touch it.  
Personally, she thought the wine was delightful. 

And so it went. During the morning she would sit in the garden, not sure who or what she was waiting for. Her friends would sit with her sometimes, covering her hands with theirs. At meals she would watch them eat, drinking something strong. She felt safe in the knowledge that as long as she was fasting they would not go without. Before she went to bed she would sit in front of the mirror and scrape her fingernails over the parts of her that wouldn't disappear, no matter how hard she tried. They only served to remind her that she would never be satisfied, that she could never rest.

There were changes in her friends, she was very aware of them. Sometimes when she entered a room, all eyes flew to her and the conversation would stall before hastily restarting. Sometimes she could hear Jane crying weakly when they all lay together at night, could feel her shoulders shaking. Dirk did nothing but train, couldn't stand being idle and Jake refused to leave the house, not even to join him. She felt as if the walls were getting tighter, idly pondered the possibility of them falling down. 

On a day like any other day, Roxy Lalonde looked down at her lap and saw that a small cookie that had been placed there. She wondered who had put it there, who loved her so much. Wondered what person in her house didn't want her to starve. She picked it up tentatively, and met the smiling eyes of her three best friends. 

She kissed each of them on the forehead and took a bite.

Personally, she thought it wasn't half bad.


End file.
